Chapter Thirteen
CAMI
My heart leaped into my throat. "It’s the first strong storm of the year.”
Dad sent me a message seconds later.
Dad: Are you home safe?
Cami: Yeah, all good here and I locked everything up. How are you?
Dad: Don't worry about your old man. I'm safely cooped up. I've got food to last me for days.
I glanced up at Maddox, who was busy texting, too, probably letting his family know what was going on.
I took in a deep breath, relaxing at the familiar smell of the simmering pot.
I didn’t understand why I was so nervous.
Well… probably because I knew where this was going. Maddox would spend a few hours here.
Maybe even the night, a small voice said at the back of my head.
He put his phone in the back of his pocket. "All right. Looks like I'll be sticking around for a while," he said, staring at me intently. "I’m sure it’ll get better in a few hours.”
I sucked in a breath as he stepped closer. He was wearing a dress shirt, and his suit jacket wasn't that thick. Hadn’t he been cold outside? Why didn't he wear an ugly sweater or a paper bag or something? How could he be so irresistible?
"Maddox, I honestly don't think you’ll be able to drive to the Gris.
But my couch is a pullout. I've had friends sleep over, and they said it's comfortable.
Of course, it's entirely possible they were just trying to be nice.
And none of them were as tall as you," I said, realizing this might not work out.
He put one hand on the counter and touched my face with the other.
"Cami, I'll be out of your hair by nightfall. Don't worry. Now, let me cook you dinner."
"Wh-What?" I stammered.
He laughed. "You heard me right. Let's see what you have in the fridge." He effortlessly moved to my kitchen, opening the fridge. He glanced inside, nodding appreciatively. "What do you say about baked potatoes and chicken skewers?"
"Absolutely," I said.
He laughed. "Don't sound stunned. It's not a particularly difficult dish."
"No, but I just can't picture you cooking while wearing your expensive suit."
"I wasn't born wealthy, remember? My mother was practically a single mom. Dad only came every few weekends, and she needed all the help she could get around the house. I was the oldest of my brothers, so I helped with homework and dinner."
"I never thought about it like that," I murmured, surprised that he spoke so openly about his family. "So your mom showed you these recipes?"
He shook his head. "No, I just look them up online. I don't cook that often. It's a bit of a hassle to cook for one."
"I agree." I was hovering around him because it felt weird to just let the man cook alone.
But I really was no help with my hand. I didn't want to get the bandage wet, and every time I tried to flex my fingers, pain sliced through my palm, so I couldn't help with the chopping either.
"That's usually why I bake for a million people and take everything with me to work.
Otherwise, I just end up eating everything.
But, Maddox, you don't have to go to all this trouble. There's no need for skewers."
He looked at me. "I don't mind spoiling a beautiful woman."
My breath caught in my throat, and I blushed again as I looked down at the oval-shaped oven pan he'd taken out of my colorful stash.
"In fact, if someone were to ask me how I wanted to spend the storm of the year," he continued, "it would be just like this."
I laughed. "Cooped up in the world's smallest cabin?"
"Exactly," he replied, dropping his voice to a lower register. "With you."
I chanced a glance up. He was looking right at me.
"Why?" I whispered.
"Because it gives me a chance to be alone with you without any interruptions or distractions. And I've wanted this for weeks."
"You have?"
"Fuck yes. Ever since that evening at the restaurant." He turned around, facing me. "All I wanted was an excuse to be alone with you."
I smiled, swooning a bit. "Hmm, and now the universe is conspiring to get you what you want."
"Something like that," he admitted.
"So this is why you came to find me today?"
He shook his head and then touched my face with the back of his hand. "I was honestly hoping I wouldn't see your car at the park at all. That you would already be safe at home. But I'm so damn glad I stopped by."
"So am I. I got lucky," I whispered.
"I'm the lucky one, Cami. I'm the fucking luckiest bastard in the world."
His gaze was on my lips. I let out a shaky breath, and he stepped back.
"Let's turn on the oven,” he said.
"Right away."
He prepped everything surprisingly quickly. I really wasn't much use besides stirring the mulled wine.
As I peered inside the pot, my phone beeped again. I instantly checked it, wondering if the message was from Dad or Miriam.
It was from Bill.
Bill: Hey. Hope you’re safe from the storm. You didn’t reply the other day about selling the property. We can give you 10% more than what we offered the first time.
My eyes bulged. I swear to God, this guy has some nerve! Bill was always persistent, and I couldn’t be as abrasive with him as I wanted.
Cami: The offer is way too low, Bill.
Bill: But wouldn’t you rather the property go to a local?
I drew in a deep breath. I needed to nip this in the bud.
Cami: Not at any cost.
Bill: Well, that’s how much the property is worth to us.
"What’s wrong?" Maddox asked.
I shrugged, pushing my phone away. "Bill got wind that you want Essex Adventures. He… well, his family offered to buy the land once, right after Mom died. Their price was truly ridiculous. Dad got super offended. I think they just thought we’d be so distraught that we’d sell it to the first person who offered. "
He set his jaw. "Go on."
"Anyway, now he says they're still interested and are offering 10 percent more than what they originally did. What a joke."
"I did have a bad feeling about him, but this is insane."
"I agree. I can’t tell him to go fuck himself, though."
Maddox grinned. “I can.”
I laughed, stirring the pot again. “Trust me, you can't, or else he’ll delay or disapprove your permits.”
"No, he won’t." He said this so seriously that I was tempted to tease him. Then I remembered Whitley Industries was a huge-ass corporation. Someone like Bill couldn’t push them around. "If he’s bothering you, just say the word."
“I don’t want to talk about Bill anymore, okay?”
He leveled me with his gaze.
“Really,” I insisted.
“Fine.”
Our dinner was still in the oven, but the mulled wine seemed ready, so I poured us each a cup.
"Usually I let it simmer more, but I really want to taste it."
We clinked cups, and then he brought his to his mouth. Mine was dark green with leaves all over it. His was dark blue. I didn't have matching cups either.
"This is delicious," he said.
"And strong," I replied. "Even without the brandy." I took a sip, closing my eyes, dropping my head back, and smiling.
"You're so fucking beautiful when you smile like that."
I opened my eyes, straightening up. He was pinning me with his gaze.
"What were you thinking about?" he asked.
"About how much I enjoy this season. All the cozy indoor activities. It's also quiet in the adventure park. And that I can't wait to light the fireplace."
"If you have wood, we can build a fire now.”
“I do, actually," I said, grinning from ear to ear. That would be lovely. It was exactly what this evening was missing. "I keep the firewood at the back entrance. I'll show you."
After we put our cups on the kitchen counter, I led him through a small corridor to the back door. "I only ever bring enough wood up here for three or four fires. I keep the rest in the backyard.”
"But you have heating, right?"
I nodded. "Of course, and a generator. But I really like looking at the fire, especially in the winter."
I had colorful coats and some boots stacked up next to the pile of wood. Maddox took an armful and I sighed, watching him carry the logs.
He set the firewood in the rack before bending to inspect the fireplace.
I licked my lips as I went back to the kitchen counter. Grabbing my cup, I brought it to my mouth.
Oh yeah. Mulled wine, a dinner in the oven, and this hot-as-hell guy starting my fire—pun intended. What more could I want?
His ass looked especially delicious from where I stood. I couldn't get enough.
A few minutes later, the fire was going.
"You have skills," I said.
"You know, men and fire. It's a caveman thing." He tilted his head, zeroing in on me. "You look so damn happy."
"I am," I assured him. "This evening is amazing."
We started setting the table after that. It was round and small, and I'd pushed it against the wall because I usually ate alone. I feared he might not actually fit at the table; the man was so tall that he made everything around him look hobbit-sized.
He took the food from the oven and split it evenly onto two plates. I filled our cups with more mulled wine, and then we sat across from each other at the table.
"This turned out better than I thought," Maddox said after the first mouthful.
"You’re a pro.”
"I like to do everything perfectly."
I stared at him. Was that supposed to be a joke? Nope, the man wasn’t joking in the slightest.
He took another mouthful and narrowed his eyes, as if contemplating what grade to give himself.
"Well, I, for one, think it's perfect. Way better than what I usually cook for myself."
"What are you talking about? Your banana bread is amazing."
I grinned. "I like to bake desserts, but food? Eh, I get by."
The wind grew even louder during dinner, and the rain intensified. There was no way I was letting Maddox leave my cabin tonight.
"The mulled wine recipe is really good," Maddox said as we chugged our third portion for the evening. The alcohol was getting to me; I was already a bit light-headed.
Once our plates were empty, I stood, gathering them.
"No, sit."
"But you cooked," I said with a pout.
He groaned. "Stop pouting; your mouth looks irresistible—even more so than usual."
There was a pause as my breath caught.
Holy shit! He really just said that.